In the early 1980’s I was a general dentist captain in the US Air Force stationed in Germany. One of the vacations my wife and I took one winter, with some of our friends from the base, was a snow skiing vacation in Switzerland. Both of us were pretty good skiers but not awesome. I could ski down most runs, but I didn’t ski in deep powder, for example.
One of the interesting things about some of the runs at that time was that the way up the mountain was by T-bar. This is a simple contraption that hangs down from a moving cable system and looks like an upside-down T made of wood or metal. You stand and this thing comes behind you and connects to that part of your anatomy between your tush and upper legs. Everyone tells you not to sit down but at first you do resulting in you immediately sitting on the ground; so they have to stop the lift and everyone, especially those who just did it before you, glare at you. Eventually you learn to just stand and ski while this thing pulls you to the top of the run.
By this time in life my wife and I were used to chair lifts. Back in the States our experience had been that T-bars were usually relegated to the simple to moderate runs. Falling off a T-bar was no big deal there because you were not on much of a slope. Not true in Switzerland back in the 80’s. (I have no idea if it is different now, but I’ve got to think so).
At that particular time in history we were riding T-bars to the tops of the very highest runs and so some of these lifts were at times pulling people what seemed like almost straight up.
One morning I was paired for our first run of the day with a pleasant fellow from Germany who spoke very good English, so on the way up the mountain we got into a very pleasant conversation. In fact we became like best friends - from the waist up.
From the waist down the relationship was anything but cordial. Our skis were locked in mortal combat. I was doing everything I could to stay in my track and his skis were sliding me off the lift to the right.
In a moment half way up a sizable mountain his skis gained the victory and I was knocked off the lift falling into deep powder on the side of a steep slope containing very picturesque rocky outcroppings jutting out from pristine powdery snow. All of the developed runs, you see, were to the left of the lift. I couldn’t get to them because of the lines of people chugging up on the T-bar.
By the time I met my friends and wife at the bottom for lunch they had probably skied five or six runs to my one miserable descent. It took me hours to get to the bottom because I was afraid of getting up too much speed and plowing into a hidden or not so hidden boulder or going over a cliff. Of course without speed I couldn’t turn. So I would aim myself, ski down on a slant, sit down to crash-stop, turn, ski some more, crash, turn, repeat.
I’ve had better days.
Life often mirrors my experience on the side of that mountain. It seems more often than not we are operating on two levels at the same time. On the one hand it’s a beautiful day and things relationally can be described as “pleasant,” yet at the same time there runs this underlying contentious struggle. We like the people we treat, the people we are teamed with, our professional colleagues, and the procedures we get to do. On the other hand we have other things on our mind. Someone we care about may be terribly sick, for example, or a child is struggling at school. Also we are locked into meeting obligations that seem to have little upside, yet we promised…
Often we are told it is not a good idea to dwell on the negative and try and stay positive, but once in a while this strategy doesn’t work. It feels like we are trying to put out a house fire with a squirt gun. All of this affects our judgement and threatens our ability to continue in a profession that requires our best everyday.
It is in these moments when we need an understanding community and the opportunity to simply talk honestly without risk of condemnation. I hope you have this human safety net in your life. It’s really important. You need a life outside of dentistry.Being people-centered is important for our health.
However, If you are feeling a little isolated, sort of like stuck on the side of a mountain in deep snow, please feel free to message me privately. I would be honored to walk along side you as you try to sort things out.
Have a great day, and remember, dentistry is a learned procedure.